April 11, 2007
Spring is here, and in spite of the unseasonably chilly temperatures, I definitely have spring fever. I am clearly not alone. Suddenly, after what seems like months of inactivity, my Internet dating mailbox is filling up. Men of all shapes, ages and sizes seem to be lining up.
It is unusual for a truly educated professional man to be found in the cyberworld, so when I received an e-mail from a gentleman who said he was a mere four years older than I, a doctor, a surgeon at a major hospital in NY wanting to correspond with me, how could I possibly resist? Because of his professional position he had not posted a picture, but readily sent one upon my request.
The Doctor got straight to the point. He was a busy man, looking for a woman. He wanted a long-term relationship with a woman who was smart, attractive and loved sex. I thought ...
Me.
Me.
Me.
After a couple of conversations I agreed to meet him for dinner. You would think that I had learned my lesson after my date with the Athlete, but I happily agreed to dine with the Doctor.
The Doctor selected a lovely bistro on the East Side of Manhattan. He had warned me that he had a complex surgery that day and may need to cancel. I could feel him beaming through the phone when he called to confirm that afternoon. His surgery had gone well and he was in the mood to celebrate and boast.
I arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early and ordered a glass of wine at the bar. It was a lovely spot. Just as I took the first sip from my glass of wine I felt a man standing next to me. I looked up to see a much shorter, much older version of the man I had been corresponding with.
I figured what the hell. I was about to have dinner with a very smart and charming man who was bursting from the fantastic day he’d had. The hostess showed us to our table and we ordered a lovely meal. He was smart and charming and we had quite a bit in common. He actually listened to what I had to say and showed an interest in my favorite New York pastimes — The American Museum of Natural History and the theater. He was perfectly charming and seemingly harmless. I began to wonder who I knew that would be more appropriate for this man. He had lied about his age, but surely someone I know should date this successful doctor.
As he paid the bill he asked if I’d like a ride home. Typically I would not allow a first date to know where I live but this seemed perfectly reasonable and chaste. As we left the restaurant I was reminded that in spite of global warming it was quite cold outside. I took his arm for warmth as he walked me to his car. We chatted easily as he drove me home. I was surprised when he took my hand and then removed my glove to kiss it. His fingers played on the skin on the back of my hand. I did not take my hand away. I’m not sure why. I think I was surprised at the change in demeanor.
We arrived at my building and he stopped the car to say goodnight. It suddenly became clear that he thought he was coming upstairs. He thought dinner had entitled him to a Viagra pass. I leaned over to say goodnight and give him a little kiss and then he grabbed me. It was pleasant actually. He was a very good kisser and I responded to him. Then, realizing my predicament, I thought it was time to get out of the car. He grabbed me and kissed me hard, shoving my hand in his lap. I knew my doorman was watching every second so I felt safe. My mind immediately went to the episode of "Sex and the City" where Samantha dated the older man for presents. I closed my eyes tight to see if all men were the same in the dark. In many ways they are.
Could I have sex for presents?
Could I learn to enjoy this smart and charming yet shrunken and bald man?
The answer was no.
The Doctor was confident. He truly believed that there was no question that he would spend the night in my bed. It was time to make my escape. Before he let me go he grabbed me and kissed me hard and passionately, moving my head, his tongue darting in my ear. He was clearly hard and excited and wanted me now and told me so. I suggested that if he wanted me so badly he would have to wait. He would have to plan ahead.
For days he called me wondering how I was, wondering when he would see me again. I finally had to tell him to stop. He said he kept calling because he was worried about "us." I didn’t realize that there was an "us." I took a deep breath and simply said, “I’ll just have to say no. This isn’t going to happen. Don’t call me again.”
I did not want to play doctor with the Doctor.
Comments
cathy (cathy) says...
Worried about "us"? After one date?!? Dear lord....
April 11, 2007 at 10:06 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
Theresa (anonymous) says...
Do most men seriously expect sex on the first date? I have a friend who is recently divorced and we talk about this a lot. Her daughter talks about the '3-date rule' which I haven't heard of. At what point is it expected?
April 11, 2007 at 11:18 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
mchurchill (mchurchill) says...
I confess I think these days the expectation of sex on a first date comes from both sides of the fence! The 3-date rule has been around forever. It's really more about a double standard. At some point you let that go. It's not about expectation. If it's expected or required, set him free. It's about what your friend wants and what feels right for her. If she wants to wait 3 years that's fine too! That being said, if she is moved by the moment, she shouldn't let an arbitrary rule get in her way. Rules were made to be broken.
April 12, 2007 at 11:36 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
Margo (anonymous) says...
From personal experience, I'd have to agree with Michelle. I was surprised at the expectation of sex when I re-entered the dating world. And, often times, I was surprised at my own drive for it. Tell your friend it's tough to get back out there. You sort of go through a second adolescent in terms of revisiting all your old insecurities but, eventually, she'll settle in and gain confidence and feel comfortable calling the shots.
April 13, 2007 at 7:15 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
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